


one little kiss never killed nobody but me

by bluenorth



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Summer Vacation, post-season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:32:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluenorth/pseuds/bluenorth
Summary: Matt yawns and rolls onto his back. After a moment, he asks, “You feel like going to my parents’ cabin for a couple days?”Drake wants to say yes, wants to hide from everything, wants to just be around Matt before heabsolutely has to stop.He knows he shouldn’t, but this he can do.





	one little kiss never killed nobody but me

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of written for Minnie and Mona who were the first to give me feelings about these rookies. 
> 
> All my thanks go to Lor for fixing everything I messed up and making it so much better, and to Ria for being the best most encouraging cheerleader anyone could ask for. 
> 
> Title taken from Dallas Smith's _One Little Kiss_.

Drake wants lots of things.

He wants to win this game, wants to get to the next round, wants to make at least one of his playoff goals _count_ for something. It turns out he can’t and he knows it’s not on him alone, but it still sucks.

There’s more that he’s learned he wants since he came to Edmonton, though. He wants to kiss Matt, wants to taste his lips, wants to run his thumb over the spot where Matt’s stupid eyebrow _still_ hasn’t grown back properly. He can’t do this either, it’s just about as frustrating as all his other futile desires, and he knows it’s time to get over his crush.

He figures he can use the summer to work on getting better, stronger, faster, and to find some pretty boy to help him forget all about Matt. He makes this plan as they walk up to their hotel room, Matt a few steps behind him.

He watches Matt change in a way he would never allow himself to in the locker room. He shouldn’t be doing it here either, but it’ll be the last time, so sue him. Not sleeping two meters away from Matt for a few months will definitely help, and maybe he can get a new roomie in the fall without making things awkward.

“Drake?”

Matt is standing in the space between their beds and looks at him, amusement in his eyes. Drake hopes he didn’t catch him staring and he _really_ hopes he’s not turning red now.

“I asked if you’re flying home right after clear out,” Matt asks and flops down on his bed, stretching out before he turns to his side to look at Drake again.

“Dunno. I haven’t made any plans,” he says, shrugging. He’s not in a hurry to be anywhere, really, but he thinks Edmonton will probably get a tad lonely without the guys there.

Matt yawns and rolls onto his back. After a moment, he asks, “You feel like going to my parents’ cabin for a couple days?”

Drake wants to say yes, wants to hide from everything, wants to just be around Matt before he _absolutely_ has to stop. He knows he shouldn’t, but this he can do.

“Yeah, buddy. Let’s go.”

 

*

 

The cabin is a beautiful place at the edge of a forest. It’s small and cozy, there’s a lake nearby, and the only thing disturbing the scenery is the monstrosity of a car Matt parked at the end of the dirt road leading up to the house. To be fair, Drake’s Ford would have been an ill fit for this terrain, but why Matt likes these big, oversized off road trucks is beyond him.

They go fishing the first day and Matt somehow ropes him into swimming in the lake even though it’s still way too cold for that to be enjoyable. In the water, Matt laughs at him and says, “Your lips are blue.” Drake bites back the reply he wants to give about how Matt is welcome to do something about that, preferably with his mouth.

Drake’s not big on eating fish, if he’s being honest, but Matt is good at preparing it and that’s a bit of a surprise. He’d like to know how much else there is he doesn’t know about Matt, if it would be different had they ended up rooming together in Edmonton for more than a few weeks.

“My mom taught me a few things,” Matt explains, and Drake still remembers her from the handful of family dinners Matt invited him to last summer. Her food was excellent and she was warm and welcoming, made him feel perfectly at home.

There’s not much to do at the cabin but fish and enjoy nature. They hike through the woods and Drake loses track of time and direction early. He doesn’t mind, though, not when he can follow Matt as  he tells stories about his childhood and how he got lost once.

“Are we lost now, Benny?” Drake asks, and Matt grins at him. His eyes sparkle and his dimples are showing. Sometimes Drake thinks Matt’s smile is the root of all of his problems. It’s hard to say no to, it’s hard not to love. He’d follow that smile into a fucking maze and trust he’d get through it okay.

Their last night there, Matt gets a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. “My Dad still thinks I don’t know where he hides the key,” he says as he pours them both a drink. It’s good stuff, makes Drake’s chest feel warm and his fingers tingly after the third glass.

It also makes him a strange brand of bold. He can’t stop looking at Matt’s lips, how he always chews on them when he’s not talking, turning them red. There’s barely anything left in the bottle and Matt is laughing a lot at all the stupid things Drake says. Somehow, Matt’s head ends up in Drake’s lap and Drake has his hand in Matt’s hair. The dimples are back and Drake is too drunk to think about what he can and cannot do.

Matt’s mouth opens for his in a heartbeat. It’s not even perfect because Matt is trying to talk and kiss him at the same time; it’s too sloppy and both their mouths taste like really good whiskey. It’s nothing like Drake imagined it would be, and it’s fucking everything.

“Stop, stop, let me-” Matt says and Drake thinks this is it, this is where they end and he’s fucked everything up. But Matt just scrambles up and into his lap, upright now. He frames Drake’s head with his hands and they’re kissing for real, now. Matt starts grinding against him, licks into his mouth and Drake’s head is spinning with the realization of where this is going.

It’s still spinning when Matt sucks a bruise into his skin, spins faster even when he looks down and sees their dicks sliding together, Matt’s hand jerking them both off. It grinds to a stop when he comes and Matt collapses against him a few seconds later, breathing heavy, a sticky mess between them.

 

*

 

Drake wakes up on the couch the next morning, alone. The sun’s up and the odd cuckoo clock on the wall says it’s almost noon. There’s a bad taste in his mouth, his head hurts, and there’s dry come on his stomach and _fuck_.

He finds Matt in the kitchen drinking coffee as he stares out the window.

“Hi,” Drake says and it comes out small and weird. It startles Matt and he turns around, thin smile on his thin lips. Drake hates that smile. It means nothing good.

“Morning,” Matt says and Drake wishes he’d say something more, something about last night, but all he does is empty his mug in the sink before he pushes a bottle of painkillers in Drake’s direction. “I’m gonna go pack and lock everything up. Water’s still on so you can shower. No rush.”

Drake takes two aspirins. They help with his headache but not with the dread pooling in his stomach as he rubs at it furiously in the shower, destroying all evidence of his awful, drunk decision-making. After, he stands in front of the mirror and stares at the hickey just above his collarbone, rubs at it and wishes he could wash that off, too.

They sit in the car in silence and listen to the radio for 3 hours straight. It’s the most uncomfortable Drake has ever been in his entire life, much worse even than that time he walked in on his parents having sex and they insisted on talking to him about it after. By the time they get to his place, Drake has considered jumping out of the rolling truck at least twice and he wouldn’t even care if it hurt. He reaches for the door handle but Matt places a hand on his arm.

“We should talk.”

Drake would rather die.

Matt looks earnest, though. Earnest and sad. “We probably- we shouldn’t have done that. We were drunk, it was stupid. Can we just- can we forget it happened and, like, not let it get weird?”

Drake is pretty sure he can pretend it never happened but he won’t be able to forget. There’s no way he’s ever forgetting about this. He could fuck a hundred other guys and still this would be burned into his memory, the same way some other things are, like his first NHL goal. He’ll play it back in his head, over and over again, but yeah, he’ll pretend that it’s gone if that’s what Matt wants.

“Sure thing, Benny,” he says, and gets out of the truck.

 

*

 

Summer is a time Drake has always enjoyed. He gets to see his family, and he gets to heal,  relax, and prepare for the next season. He likes the build-up of that anticipation and by the end of August he’s usually both excited and restless, ready to get back on the ice.

Part one of his plan, working out and putting on some muscle, keeping sharp and fast for the season, goes decently. There’s a problem though: he doesn’t enjoy it the way he used to. When he thinks about the fall, all he feels is dread and anxiety simmering below the surface.

He hasn’t heard from Matt since that day. No call, no text, not even a cheap like on social media to keep up the pretense that they’re fine. In all fairness, Drake hasn’t reached out either and he misses Matt something fierce. It’s not even because he’s stupidly in love with him, but because Matt’s a good friend and he just wants to talk to him. Had he known that putting himself out there would make him lose Matt as a friend, he never would have done it.

Nothing at all ever became of the second part of his plan. The thought of fucking some random guy isn’t appealing and he needs to be more careful about this stuff than other people, too. It doesn’t seem worth it and at this point, he doubts it’ll help him get over anything.

So Drake hides at his parents’ place most of the time, sees his friends who are still back home and wishes he could just stay here. Camp is still a few weeks away but once it starts, he won’t be able to avoid Matt anymore, not completely at least, not if he doesn’t want people to notice something’s up. There’s not enough space in a locker room for these things to fly under the radar.

Brody comes home with his wife for a bit and he knows Drake too well. When he asks, Drake spills everything all over the floor of his childhood bedroom and he feels better after, and worse at the same time.

“You’re going out on a date tonight,” Brody says a day later. Despite all pleading and protesting, he refuses to let Drake cancel.

It goes well, Drake admits to himself. The guy is nice and attractive and a friend of Brody’s, so Drake isn’t too worried he’ll tell the world about this. They chat about hockey and TV shows and Drake thinks it’s kinda nice to hang out with someone who actually watches TV, remembers that Matt just kind of doesn’t.

That’s the only time he thinks about Matt the entire evening. He’s ready to call it a win when he checks his phone in the restaurant’s bathroom and sees a notification for an Instagram post from Matt. He opens it, determined to turn those notifications off, and it suddenly feels like someone has stabbed him with a knife and is twisting it deep into his guts.

It’s a picture of Matt at a party, some girl pressed up against his side. Drake thinks it’s a wedding, maybe, if the fancy clothing is any indicator. She’s pretty, she looks nice, and Matt has his arm slung around her waist, pressing her close against his side. Wide smile, dimples, eyebrow still a little thin but visible. Someone Drake doesn’t know has left a comment with a heart emoji below the picture.

Drake tells his date he’s not feeling great and he probably looks like someone died anyway, but he also doesn’t really care if the guy believes him or not. He goes home and tells Brody he appreciates the help, but he doesn’t want to be set up again.

He goes to bed and waits for summer to end.

 

*

 

He arrives at YEG with a heavy heart and no idea what to do about it. He doesn’t want to be here anymore, regrets the decision he made a year ago to join this team, back when he had other options and Matt Benning was just a guy whose name he’d heard at a game once and forgotten again when it was over. He knows it’s melodramatic but he can’t get his mind off of it, thinks about how it may affect his season, and he’s spiralling before he even picks up his bag.

He pushes a cart with all his stuff through sliding glass doors and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Matt. Drake would recognize that slim but strong frame anywhere, especially now at the front of the crowd of people waiting to pick up their loved ones. Matt gives an awkward little wave when he spots Drake amongst the arriving travellers and Drake’s stomach plummets.

Someone pushes past Drake, knocking their bag into his side. He realizes he’s frozen in place, right in the way of the flow of foot traffic, so he wills his feet to move forward. Matt moves to the side to meet him where they can actually get through to the exit.

“What are you doing here?” Drake asks. He keeps his voice light and hopes Matt can’t see that Drake still wants to kiss him until their lips are swollen and they’re breathless and hard.

“Picking you up? I know I should’ve texted, but Davo told me you’d be back today and I thought I’d give you a ride so you don’t have to take a cab. Plus, there’s no way all of your crap would even fit in a regular car, you have too much shit. Come on.” He starts walking towards the exit and after a second of processing without coming up with much of a result, Drake follows.

They load everything into the back of Matt's truck while he tells Drake that he met some of their new rookies already and that they're all pretty cool and will fit in well with the group.

Matt gets them on the highway to Edmonton. Drake still hasn't said a single thing when they're halfway there because Matt hasn't stopped talking yet.

He talks and talks about his summer, about his training, about his parents and his trip to Alaska. Drake knows Matt is a nervous talker, he was there for his first pro game after all, but he has never seen him talk this much.

Matt doesn’t mention his girlfriend once.

Drake says “Thanks for the lift,” when they arrive at his place.

But Matt waves a hand and replies, “Let me help you carry your stuff in.”

Drake would protest, but Matt wasn't wrong to point out that he travels with too much luggage. They drag all of his bags into the elevator and into his apartment and it would've taken Drake two trips on his own but that might have been preferable to the outcome of this situation, with Matt in the hallway of his apartment, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Matt seems to finally have run out of things to say, which means that they're stuck with silence. The air is stuffy and too hot because no one has opened the windows in a while. Drake knows he's breathing, but it feels like more of a struggle than it should be.

“Thanks again,” Drake says, voice flat. He hopes that maybe Matt will just leave now, let him be so he can try and make some sense of this. He still has no idea if he's somewhat okay with being around Matt or if it'll break him open when he's left.

“No problem,” Matt says. Still, he doesn't leave. “So. How was your summer, then?”

Drake shrugs. “It was fine,” he says, because what else is he supposed to do here? Tell Matt he spent the last three months pining and miserable, waiting for any sign that Matt was feeling the same?

“Okay… but what did you actually do?”

Drake realizes, then and there, that he can't be around Matt. Not like this. He can’t pretend that nothing ever happened, won't play along and just go back to the way they were before. He doesn't know how to make Matt understand that, though.

The words spill out of him before he has another moment’s thought, and then he can’t stop. “I fucking missed you, Benny, okay? That's it. I trained and I missed you. I thought I could pretend, thought maybe we could actually move past it and be just friends, but I haven’t moved on. And you have. So I can’t do this right now. I can’t just pretend.” Every word is drenched in all the misery he’s bottled up all summer. It feels surprisingly good to let it go. At least Matt knows now, and maybe that'll make him back off.

Matt just stares back, though, stunned. From the way his expression changes, Drake thinks that maybe he got through to him.

“Okay,” Matt huffs. “Enough with all this bullshit. I spent all summer anxious about seeing you again and I'm fucking done with this. We were idiots. We should stop being idiots.” Matt is suddenly very, very close, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten red. Drake thinks maybe he's just generally an idiot, because he's so confused.

“What do you mean, Benny?” It’s barely a whisper, Drake’s throat is so dry.

Matt rolls his eyes. “I mean that if we’re gonna date, you need to find a different nickname to call me. Benny’s for the guys.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Drake asks, trying to work out what the hell Matt is geting at here.

Matt looks at him, his entire face a question mark.

“From that picture you posted a few weeks ago.”

A laugh breaks out of Matt and he shakes his head. “Didn’t see the ring on her finger, did you? She’s gonna be so amused when I tell her you thought this.”

By the time Drake catches on, Matt's already kissing him. For all his bravado, it's soft and a little hesitant and all Drake wants to do is fall into it. Through the rush of the kiss, of the way Matt cups Drake’s face like it’s a precious thing, Drake thinks Matt just asked him to be his boyfriend or something ridiculous like that. He can feel all the hurt crash out of him in waves as he wraps his arms around Matt and pulls him closer.

He wants to forget about it and lose himself in this, in the burning need mingled with an underlying softness that eases into him. He wants to, and he can't. He breaks the kiss and pulls away just far enough fix his eyes on Matt’s. It takes all of his courage to say what comes out.

“I can't do this again if you're going to make me pretend it never happened.”

Matt looks as devastated as Drake felt all summer and he shakes his head. There's so much sincerity there that Drake already knows he won't have to take that pain all over again, knows it like he knows only a few other things in life, before Matt even answers.

“Oh God, no, Drake,” Matt promises, and Drake’s heart flutters from the sound of Matt saying his name. “I won't, I don't want that. I promise.”

Drake smiles, lifts his hand to Matt's cheek, and touches a thumb to where his eyebrow has grown back in fully.

“Okay, Matty.” Drake wants to kiss Matt, wants to push him up against a wall, wants to hold him closer, wants and wants and wants.

And as it turns out, he can.


End file.
